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“All the more reason to think someone could have framed her.”
“Who?” Greed challenged.
“Is there anyone who would want to harm Vesta?” I shot back. “Anyone who’d wish to harmyouby attacking her? And how are you so certain the remains belong to your third?” I asked Greed, gaining the attention of each prince again. “There’s not much left that’s identifiable. Aside from finding the remains in her chamber, how do you know it’s Vesta and not one of her attendants? Or how do you know the sex for that matter?”
“I—” Greed paced around his desk. He looked to Sloth. “You tested the blood?”
“I did, but there were a couple of different profiles—demon and werewolf—that made identification difficult, though werewolf was the strongest scent. Not unsurprising given the content of their blood typically reads stronger than that of any other creature. And Lady Emilia is correct; I couldn’t determine the sex.”
“Which means you cannot know with certainty that Vesta is dead and not simply kidnapped or gone of her own free will.” I looked directly at Sloth. “Correct?”
Sloth blew out a slow breath. “Correct, though I believe unlikely.”
“And what of the werewolf blood?” I asked Greed. “Why would the commander of your army have anything other than demon blood show up?”
Greed scowled. “I imagine that could be from her attacker. Further proving the werewolves acted on your twin’s behalf.”
“You cannot know for certain who acted on who’s command. That’s pure conjecture. If you’re to condemn my sister”—I faced Wrath again, speaking directly to him—“I should hope you’d do so based on facts, not simply the likelihood of her guilt. You say the rubies are something she’s widely known for, but then anyone with that knowledge could easily frame her. Including Greed.”
“You overstep, Shadow Witch.” Greed’s voice was a low growl.
“If you have nothing to hide, this conjecture shouldn’t offend you, your highness. The skulls she sent me recently did not contain any rubies. It’s rather odd that yours did. If I were you and seeking the truth, I’d be very curious about Vesta and what she was doing in the hours leading up to her death. Did anyone hear anything unusual or see anything strange outside her chamber?”
“No,” Greed said curtly.
“Was Vesta at odds with anyone in court?” I pressed.
The prince of this circle gave me a nasty look. “She was the commander of my army. Talented beyond measure and focused on her duty. She had little interest in pleasing anyone at court. She was meant to be feared, not adored.”
“With all due respect, your highness, someone made it past her private defenses and overtook her. If she could be so easily harmed, then who’s to say the same couldn’t happen to you?” I glanced around the room, but no one—except Wrath—met my stare.
“My brother already determined that the most likely creature to break our wards and enter her rooms undetected was a shifter.” Greed motioned toward Sloth, who inclined his head. “Your abysmal sister has taken one such creature as her lover. She clearly wishes to incite an internal war. Why else would she go to the trouble of forming an alliance she had no intention of honoring? You need to come to terms with the truth and stop putting the innocent on trial. Vesta is dead. Your sister is responsible. That’s the end of it. Your mortal sentimentality is clearly clouding your ability to see the obvious.”
My sister might be guilty of horrible things, but she was my blood. I would fight for her until I knew the full truth. And that was something that ought to be done for anyone accused of such a serious crime. The fact that Greed was content with leading what could only be described as a witch hunt, without any true proof of guilt, was appalling. How his brothers could stand here, entertaining it, was maddening. I felt my betrothed’s attention on me and turned to him.
Wrath’s gaze was penetrating as it held mine. And wholly unreadable. Something like dread crept into my belly the longer he held my stare. This wasn’t my future husband staring deeply into my eyes; it was the demon fearsome enough to rule them all.
Greed moved around his desk, planting his hands on either side of the dagger he’d just retrieved after flinging it at Lust. “What’s your decision, brother? Do you declare war on House Greed or the monstrosity your intended calls a sister?”
A flicker of something cold and calculating in Wrath’s expression made me want to drop to my knees and beg for mercy, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact with him, keeping my own emotions locked away. He seemed on the verge of making his decision, so I spoke for my twin once more. “A general and a king must make the tough decisions, even when unpopular. Judgment, in order to be fair, must be based on facts. Not emotions.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched.
Wrath didn’t look at any of his brothers when he said, “By attacking a member of House Greed, causing severe bodily harm and death, Vittoria Nicoletta di Carlo has openly declared war on the Seven Circles, and as such, she is now considered an enemy of the realm. If she is seen anywhere in any circle, each prince of Hell may act as he deems fit to ensure the safety of his people. House Wrath hereby accepts House Greed’s request for blood retribution. If any official member of the seven Houses of Sin is found harboring the condemned without notifying me of her capture, they, too, shall be executed.”
I stared at Wrath. I knew I heard him correctly, but I couldn’t believe it. I could barelythinkpast the sudden ringing in my ears. My betrothed, the demon I’d been about to complete an eternal marriage bond with, just sentenced my twin to death. His brothers murmured their approval, and I glared at them all as rage simmered. They had no facts. No evidence, no proof of guilt.
“I’ll have the blood oath written up.” Greed nodded to someone I didn’t care to look at. “It may take a while since we’ll need to use language acceptable to Houses Lust, Sloth, Greed, and Wrath. For now, please accept a guest suite to rest in or enjoy one of our many gaming halls.”
Wrath nodded and finally turned to me. His expression wasn’t one of sorrow or forgiveness. It looked like duty and cold justice. It looked like triumph.
Fury had my vision going nearly red as I dove into Source—a dozen roses burst into flames around the room. Lust and Sloth moved back, a flash of fear crossing their features. Heat from the raging flames had sweat breaking out across their brows.
It was the first time my magic actually produced fire with the ability to cause damage. And it was fitting, because I wanted to watch them burn. Fire crackled and popped, needing a place to go, to destroy.
I glanced at the painting Lust had been standing by, and my magic responded at once, each rosebud crashing into the canvas, setting it ablaze.
Greed shouted a command, and a demon stepped forward, grabbing a pitcher of water from the sideboard. He needn’t bother. I silently bid the flames to retreat, meeting each of their wide gazes as the scent of charred canvas permeated the air. Perhaps my sister had been right. Maybe it was time for the demons to fear us for a change.
